Kidvengers
by EricaBennet
Summary: The Avengers have split up and gone their separate ways. Loki returns and finds Thor's daughter, and the rest of the Avengers' children, and kidnaps them, bent on making their parents for what they did to him so many years ago. What he didn't take into consideration, ironically, is that they are the children of the Avengers. Not a great plan.
1. Chapter 1

Zachary Stark: Los Angeles, California

Another public event. Cameras, expensive and tasty but not very filling food, and lots of people wanting to ask year old Zachary looked around as he stood beside his father, bored. Reporters and magazine journalists swarmed them-eager to hear about the new Stark technology coming out. It took him several seconds to realize one of the journalist's questions had been directed at him. Several eyes were on him now as he was caught off guard, including his father's.

"Oh," he said sheepishly. "What was the question?"

Tony's brows furrowed slightly and he reached behind his son's right ear to unclip his hearing aid. He fiddled with it for a second and then said and signed with one hand at the same time, "His hearing aid went out. Again."

To Zachary, he said and signed, "They're asking if you're having a good time tonight."

Zachary nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "A great time."

It was a lie. He was bored out of his mind, and there was nothing wrong with his hearing aids. He'd simply disabled them, as he always did at these functions. Sooner or later his father would catch on, but for now, being able to completely tune out at will was well worth learning how to disable arc reactor technology.

He slinked away after several pictures were taken and made his way outside to get some air. The night sky had a few scattered stars, but the city lights polluted the sky, making it impossible to see the rest of them. He felt a hand on his shoulder and turned around to see his mother. She handed him a drink. Something bright red with a skewer of fruit floating inside.

"Needed some air?" She guessed, and Zachary discretely turned his hearing aids back by powering off the jamming device in his pocket.

"I'll tell Dad we're heading home," Pepper said. "You're tired, I can tell."

Zachary nodded. It wouldn't hurt his father's feelings. Often, Pepper and Zachary left ahead of time or took an early flight home while his father remained, being fawned over by business prospects and taken to lunch and dinner and media swarming him.

"I'll tell him," he offered.

He went back inside the concert hall and found his father talking to some men in suits. He wasn't smiling, Zachary noticed, and the conversation seemed pretty serious. One of the men turned around and Zachary recognized him as Phil Coulson.

"Hello, Zachary," Agent Coulson said politely.

"Hi," Zachary said and tugged at his father's arm.

"Mom and I are heading home," he told him.

Tony nodded. "Alright, Kiddo. I'll see you at home then."

Zachary started to walk away, but Tony pulled him back into a one-armed embrace and kissed him. Zachary was embarrassed by the display of affection in front of two important looking suits, and his father only made it worse when he ruffled his hair.

-

Zachary loved his father, he really did. They were just so different. Zachary wasn't outgoing and charming and funny. he didn't care much about physics and machinery, but Tony didn't care much about space either. Zachary loved space. If it were up to him, the Stark family would live in a remote cabin somewhere surrounded by stars.

"Zach?" His mother shook him lightly and he raised his head from the window of the backseat.

"We're home, Sweetheart," his mother said quietly.

Zachary sleep-walked himself into the house and up the stairs to his bedroom. He didn't even bother to find his pajamas. He just wriggled his way out of his fancy suit jacket and collar shirt and slacks and climbed into bed. He was almost asleep when he remembered his hearing aids and took those off too, clumsily feeling around for his nightstand where he set them down.

Zachary entered his passcode that let him into his father's workshop one afternoon the following week. Rock music played on a low setting as Tony worked on something-possibly repairing something since there were pieces all over the work bench.

"Hey," his father said, raising his eyes at him briefly.

"Hey," Zachary replied automatically, approaching him, picking up one of the small pieces. He was trying to think of a way to ask his father about Agent Coulson and the other suited man at the concert hall on Saturday night.

"How was school?" His father asked.

"Good," Zachary said with a shrug.

He attended a magnet school, of course, one of the best in California, but unlike some of the other children who were there because their parents were rich and powerful and had connections, Zachary actually deserved to be there. Zachary was beyond smart. Of course, being a Stark, this didn't come as a surprise to anybody, but Zachary wished that at some point in his life, somebody would be awed by him and not just shrug because he was his father's son and it was expected of him to be a genius.

"Go change out of the uniform," His father told him. "We'll go test the new flight suit pieces."

"You mean mine?" Zachary asked.

"Parts of it, yeah," Tony said. "Your mother's very big on making it one-hundred and ten percent safe."

Zachary managed a half smile. His father had been going on and on about Zachary having a suit of his own, but he had no idea he'd already started working on it.

Without him.

"Actually," Zachary said, pulling away from the work station. "I have a lot of homework."

Tony took him by the arm.

"Finish it down here," he offered. "Maybe I can help you with it."

Zachary didn't know what to say to that. He didn't really have any homework to do. He'd done it all during study period. What is 'homework' was was working on his spacecraft designs. Zachary loved to design useful machinery for space travel-often modeled by what NASA put out. Of course, it was all just models and designs, but Zachary dreamed of NASA contacting him one day, wanting him to work for them. It was nothing that would interest his father, who was too busy working on his son's flight suit without his son.

"I'll get distracted," Zachary said with a half shrug, looking at his father's calloused hand around his wrist.

Tony let his hand go. Zachary could see it in his face that he knew something was wrong, but he didn't push the issue.

"Alright," he finally said. "Get to it, Champ."

Zachary exited the workshop and went upstairs to his bedroom. He changed out of his school uniform into a t-shirt and jeans. He turned on some music and sat at his desk, wiping his hands across the the top to make the holograms appear. Images of his previous projects. Zachary pulled up a photograph of the latest NASA project and entered a code to make it a three-dimensional hologram as well, turning it around cocking his head and standing up to 'hold' it with both hands. He began working on his own design, using what he liked about the latest NASA piece.

"Zach?" His father knocked on his door before opening it. He glanced at the holograms on the desk.

"Hi," Zachary said sheepishly, swiping his hand across, making them all disappear.

"Finish your homework?" Tony asked. "Wanna try out the arms and legs?"

He looked hopeful and nervous at the same time. Zachary wondered if he should stay angry about not being included on the building process. He wasn't so much as angry as he was hurt.

"I'm busy," he said.

"Oh." Tony ran a hand through his hair awkwardly, rocking back and forth on his heels. "Um, okay. Well, maybe later in the week, yeah?"

"Yeah." Zachary nodded.

-

"I just don't get it," Tony said to Pepper as they stood side by side at the sink, spitting out toothpaste. "We used to be so close."

"He's mad at you," Pepper said simply.

"Mad at me?" Tony seemed indignant. "Why?"

Pepper stopped flossing and gave him an 'are you serious' look.

"You started on his suit without him," she said.

"So he can immediately start flying in it," Tony said, like she was missing the point.

Pepper turned his tone back on him real quick.

"Zachary doesn't just want to 'fly in it'," she said. "He wants to be part of it. You don't know how many times he's asked me, 'When is Dad going to be ready to work on my suit?'"

Tony stood by the sink staring into space for several seconds. Pepper looked at him, eyebrows raised.

"Why didn't he ask me that?" He asked in a small voice.

Pepper took him by the hand and tugged him closer to her. She ran her fingers through his hair, kissing his forehead and held his face in her hands.

"Zachary feels like the two of you don't connect anymore either," she told him quietly. "You're different, that's all."

Zachary was asleep when Tony got to his room. He was lying on his side, his back facing his father. Tony walked over to his bed and gently ran some of his fingers through his son's dark hair. He looked up and around the room. The walls were littered with framed photographs of NASA rovers, planets, comets...there was a hanging solar system in the corner-one Zachary had made completely on a whim when he was a toddler.

Tony walked over to his son's desk and wiped his hand across the desktop. A hologram appeared asking for a password. Tony tried a couple of space terms and then asked quietly, "Jarvis, bypass Zach's password. Show me what my boy's working on."

He didn't really have to be quiet. Zachary's hearing aids were on the nightstand beside the bed, but Tony knew it wasn't really polite of him to snoop through his son's things. Jarvis lifted the password blockage and floating text appeared along with three dimensional images of various and half-finished blue prints. Tony 'took' one in his hand and turned it over.

Zachary stirred and rolled over onto his back and Tony moved his hand quickly, shutting it all down. He looked at his son, who scratched his torso in his sleep and exhaled, becoming still again, one of his arms flung over and above his head, his breathing slow and deep.

Tony sighed. Pepper was right. If he didn't want to lose Zachary, he needed to become more involved in Zachary's life instead of trying to include Zachary in his. His only son. His pride and joy. His little premature baby that brought him and Pepper together once and for all. His precious baby that had failed the hearing test and Tony had refused the cochlear because not only was Tony NOT going to put an implant in his one-year-old son's brain, but because Zachary was and had always been perfect just the way he was.

Before he left the room, Tony moved back to the bed and kissed his son, fixing his covers. 


	2. Chapter 2

p align="CENTER"Nicholas Barton-Romanoff: Rhinebeck, New York/p  
p align="CENTER"br / /p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stared at his fellow fourth grade classmates as they climbed on the playground and ran around the gated school yard. As usual, he hung back, sitting under the shade of a large oak tree with roots as big as chairs. It was his third week at Go Forth Elementary and he was still not "adjusting" as his mother and father continuously put it. The teachers, of course, loved him. He was polite, responsible, didn't get into any trouble. He simply did his work and minded his own business and waited until the last bell. The day was terribly boring. And lonely./p  
p align="LEFT""Hey!" A boy jogged over to him. "Um...what's your name again?"/p  
p align="LEFT""Nicholas," he replied automatically./p  
p align="LEFT""We're playing kickball," the boy said. "Wanna play?"/p  
p align="LEFT"There was a slightly nervous expression on his face and Nicholas' eyes trailed behind him to the teacher on recess duty. She was watching them intently, nodding in approval. It was obvious she'd made the kid come over and invite Nicholas to play./p  
p align="LEFT""Sure," Nicholas said, remembering the rules of a spy. Blend in. Be somebody without secrets./p  
p align="LEFT"He was unfamiliar with kickball, but after a few minutes of watching he caught on to how it worked. When it was his turn to kick, he kicked the ball so hard and so far that it flew over the iron gate several feet away./p  
p align="LEFT""Our ball!" One of the other boys said, throwing his hands up in frustration./p  
p align="LEFT"The teacher on duty blew her whistle, signaling it was time to go back inside, and the other children groaned. As the shuffled past, one boy frowned at Nicholas and said, "You're a freak."/p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wordlessly followed them back into the building and spent the remainder of the day spelling words he already knew how to spell, learning about the parts of a flower, and his least favorite part of the day- group work./p  
p align="LEFT""Why do you never talk?" His classmates always asked him./p  
p align="LEFT"Or, "What do you mean you've never heard of emNinja Force/em?"/p  
p align="LEFT"Or, "How do you not know that song? Do you even watch TV?"/p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas felt like he'd been abducted and dropped onto another planet. He didn't know anything about what was on television or funny internet memes. He didn't care about the parts of a flower or how-to papers (writing an entire page worth of instructions on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich had been degrading). These weren't life skills. He cared about learning how to fight and survive. He cared about forgetting being "normal" and going back to SHIELD where things made sense. He could not believe that none of his classmates knew basic first aid or CPR. A lady from the American Red Cross had come into their gym period class and taught them. Nicholas had learned how to resuscitate another person when he was four. He couldn't believe that in a fire drill they moved in slow lines and didn't douse themselves in water first. There was a sink in every class room! He couldn't believe that kickball and tag were forms of physical conditioning, but sparring and combat training were not. There were even intruder drills. What good were they if nobody knew how to take down an armed intruder?/p  
p align="LEFT"During the drill, the students had hid under their desks quietly with the lights off for what seemed like forever. If a gunman really was inside the school, Nicholas had thought, the lights being off would only aid him in confusing the attacker as he ambushed him from behind or above and rendered him helpless by attacking the pressure points on the body. A baby could do it!/p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas wondered what Director Fury would think of how "normal" kids were being raised to function in society. No wonder SHIELD existed. If people were actually taught valuable skills, they wouldn't need a secret organization to look after them./p  
p align="LEFT"At the end of the day, Nicholas waited with the other car riders for his father to come and pick him up. Even going home was a ridiculous process. A teacher on duty (more like a babysitter) had to walk every child to their parent's vehicle./p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas stood against the wall with the others on the lookout for the familiar jeep his father drove. When he finally saw it, a teacher called, "Wait, Nick!"/p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas hated being called 'Nick'. He didn't mind his parents and the other SHIELD agents calling him 'Nicky', but 'Nick' was Director Fury's name. Of course, Nicholas knew he was named after Nick Fury, but still. This simple teacher had no right to call him by any nickname./p  
p align="LEFT"He took Nicholas' hand like he was four instead of nine and briskly hurried him over to his father's jeep. It was humiliating. He even tapped the door, signaling they could drive away./p  
p align="LEFT"His father wordlessly offered him a stick of gum. Nicholas took it./p  
p align="LEFT""So how was it?" Clint asked, looking at him from behind a pair of sunglasses./p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas shrugged. It was so important to his parents that he be raised "normally" because it was only fair to give him that opportunity. His father reached over and tugged his ear playfully./p  
p align="LEFT""I learned how to play kickball," Nicholas said, hoping that would be enough to satisfy him and ask no more questions./p  
p align="LEFT"-/p  
p align="LEFT"When they got home to the large two story house that was so much different than the apartment living quarters on the SHIELD base, Clint turned the ignition off, but made no move to get out. He took off his sunglasses and looked at his son./p  
p align="LEFT""I know it's not easy," he said./p  
p align="LEFT""Why did we do it?" Nicholas asked. "Why did we suddenly have to be like everyone else?"/p  
p align="LEFT"His father sighed and put one hand on the steering wheel, drumming his fingers against it. Nicholas stared at him. His question had not been rhetorical. He expected an answer./p  
p align="LEFT""Because it's fair to you," Clint said finally./p  
p align="LEFT"" 'Fair'?" Nicholas' eyebrows raised up high. "Those other kids call me a freak."/p  
p align="LEFT""You need to learn how to interact with them," his father explained. "Once you do, you'll have memories because you'll make friends and have fun."/p  
p align="LEFT""I don't need friends," Nicholas replied hotly./p  
p align="LEFT"His father smiled at him which made Nicholas madder./p  
p align="LEFT""You sound just like your mother," he told him, opening the driver side door./p  
p align="LEFT"They went inside and Clint made them a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and opened a bag of barbecue chips. He turned on the television. emNinja Force/em was on./p  
p align="LEFT""Change it," Nicholas said./p  
p align="LEFT"His father changed it to an action movie. It was already near the end, but Nicholas didn't care. He liked the explosions. After the movie finished and his stomach was full, he felt a little bit better and went upstairs to do his homework. It was not hard-mostly tedious. The math he actually kind of enjoyed. Copying spelling words three times each, he did not./p  
p align="LEFT"-/p  
p align="LEFT"Some time later, he heard his mother's car outside. His father was now an insurance salesman and his mother worked as an interpreter for companies needing somebody to translate during conferences or business meetings or the local university needing one for a class or a hospital needing one for a patient's family. She could speak a number of languages which gave her work often. Nicholas hated it. His parents had once been a master assassin and hit man and then two of SHIELD's best agents. Now his father worked in an office and his mother wore a pencil skirt and translated business meetings into Russian or Arabic or Mandarin Chinese./p  
p align="LEFT"He moved to his large window seat and peeked through the blinds to watch her walk inside. He heard her come in and speak with his father and listened as she ascended the stairs. She knocked on his door before opening it./p  
p align="LEFT""Hey," she said, taking out her earrings./p  
p align="LEFT""Hi," he relied, turning his head so she could catch his lips with hers./p  
p align="LEFT""Dad told me you weren't feeling so hot," she said, perching next to him. "He said you were a little on edge."/p  
p align="LEFT""Why can't we go back to SHIELD?" Nicholas asked. "I don't care about being normal or making memories."/p  
p align="LEFT"His mother stroked some of his hair./p  
p align="LEFT""Not yet," she said softly./p  
p align="LEFT"She sighed and told him, "I would give anything to go back and have a childhood."/p  
p align="LEFT"Nicholas knew there was no point in arguing with either of his parents. Their minds were made up. They were going to live in the suburbs and go to work and he was going to go to school./p  
p align="LEFT""Dad's starting dinner," Natasha said, standing up and smoothing out her skirt. "Should be ready soon."/p  
p align="LEFT"After she left the room, Nicholas reached under his mattress and pulled out a spiral notebook where he kept all of his thoughts and ideas about how to get back to SHIELD, even if he had to run away and return alone. He tore out those pages and crumpled them up./p  
p align="LEFT"He sat down and wrote, 'Ways to be normal'./p  
p align="LEFT"He wrote down the rules of kickball and made notes about celebrities and internet memes. The very last thing he wrote before closing it and stuffing it back under the mattress was, 'live the childhood Mom never got to. Make memories and friends'./p  
p align="LEFT"br / /p  
p align="CENTER"To Be Continued.../p 


	3. Chapter 3

p align="center"James "Jamie" Rogers: New York City, New York/p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="left" /p  
p align="left"Jamie laid on the floor on his stomach, Stevie straddled on top of him./p  
p align="left""Play horse," the nearly two year old said, bouncing slightly./p  
p align="left"Jamie reluctantly rolled onto his back and got to his hands and knees, Stevie clumsily climbing onto his back./p  
p align="left""Go!" He said, grabbing Jamie's hair like reigns. Jamie stood up, clutching his baby brother close to him, and ran all over the house at top speed, Stevie squealing with laughter./p  
p align="left""Hey-" his father, Bucky, came in from the backyard where he had been tending to the garden. "Not in the house, boys."/p  
p align="left""Let's go look at the garden," Jamie told his brother, jogging outside with him./p  
p align="left"Steve and Bucky had started it with Jamie when was in kindergarten. His father, Steve, had told him about victory gardens and how people used to grow their own vegetables so all of the supermarket vegetables could go to the soldiers fighting overseas./p  
p align="left""This is okra," Jamie told Stevie, squatting down and setting Stevie on the grass beside him. "And these are tomatoes."/p  
p align="left""Tommy?" Stevie pointed to them. "Kruh?"/p  
p align="left""And carrots, and along the fence over there-" Jamie pointed. "Those are strawberries."/p  
p align="left"Stevie, who had a full head of dark brown hair as an infant, now had blonde hair lighter than Jamie's. Jamie knew now that he biologically belonged to his father, Bucky, and Stevie biologically belonged to Steve, but it didn't matter to him. Steve and Bucky were both of the boys' fathers, no matter what./p  
p align="left""Bird!" Stevie cried, pointing up at the sky./p  
p align="left""That's right," Jamie said. "Birds."/p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"After Bucky showered, he took over Stevie-duty, and Jamie threw on his sneakers and ran to the park several blocks away. At eleven years old, he was beyond 'playing' on the playground. Now he used the entire park as an obstacle course. he was officially training to become an Avenger. His parents didn't want him hopping rooftops, but climbing and jumping from the tops of play structures were getting too easy. He decided on climbing a pine tree, which wasn't easy because they had no low branches an the bark was sticky and scratchy. Jamie had the upper body strength to do it, but it was a long, tedious process. When he finally got to the first branch he could stand on, he sat down, taking a breath. When Stevie got older, he could train to be an Avenger too. Jamie already had their code names picked out. He would be 'Eagle One' and Stevie would be 'Eagle Two'./p  
p align="left"Jamie stood up and climbed to the next branch, stomping down on a pine cone to shake it loose watched it fall down, down, down to the ground. He was actually pretty high up. He kept going, He was higher now than any roof he'd been on (which wasn't many because he was almost always caught by one of his fathers and scolded for it), and the thrill was pretty amazing. He could feel his heart racing. He stomped on some more pine cones./p  
p align="left"The tree across from him wasn't that far, and it wouldn't take much to get to it. Just one smooth jump. Jamie bounced up and down slightly, testing the sturdiness of the branch he was currently standing on. He took a deep breath and started for a running jump. The branch gave way and he fell. There was nothing to catch himself on./p  
p align="left"A normal child-a normal person even- would have die from the fall, but Jamie only felt something in his leg snap. There was a lot of blood and a gash on his lower right calf. It hurt to stand up. He had no choice. He took out his emergency cell phone (one SHIELD had designed just for him) and called his father, Steve./p  
p align="left""Jamie?" Steve answered on the first ring. "Everything alright?"/p  
p align="left""I fell," Jamie said, wincing. "I got hurt."/p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left""What do you mean no more training?" Jamie demanded, calf cleaned and wrapped./p  
p align="left""You're lucky you heal so fast," Steve said, examining the copy of the X-ray, holding it up to the light. "Had you broken your neck, it would be a lot more than a hairline fracture."/p  
p align="left"The Roger-Barnes family was currently at SHIELD headquarters, the medical ward. Jamie, being like his fathers, couldn't necessarily go to a normal hospital and explain falling from a one hundred and ten foot tree and coming out of it with only a fractured leg. He had been to the SHIELD medical ward hundreds of times, even for check ups, and the SHIELD medical staff often teased him for being so adventurous./p  
p align="left"What was on Jamie's mind at the time, aside from the unfairness of being forbidden to train, was that he'd called one of his fathers, and the other had come and gotten him. Bucky had arrived at the park with Stevie in tow, helped him into the car and to the SHIELD base hidden on the outskirts of New York City with a jet that flew them in a jiff to the bigger base in California. Steve had already been there, waiting./p  
p align="left""What were you thinking?" Steve asked him, sitting beside him on the bench outside of the examination room. "The playground is fine, but a pine tree?"/p  
p align="left"From Bucky's lap, thumb in his mouth, Stevie stared at his big brother with big solemn eyes. Jamie suddenly felt ashamed. He'd just been thinking of taking Stevie to climb trees with him when his baby brother was old enough. What if it had been sweet little Stevie that fell?/p  
p align="left"Jamie had a hard time getting his parents to understand that the tops of play structures were meaningless because they didn't help him in his training. He had a hard time getting them to understand his training period. His fathers thought it was just a way to burn all of the excess energy he had, that it was some sort of game to him. Jamie wasn't kidding around, though. He wanted SHIELD to take him in as soon as he finished high school, or sooner. High school seemed like a long way off, but his fathers were strict on him going to school and doing his homework, so he already imagined they would not let him join SHIELD sooner./p  
p align="left""The playground is for babies," Jamie said. "I need bigger and better. I need a challenge."/p  
p align="left"His teachers were always talking about students challenging themselves, so Jamie felt him using the phrase sounded extra grown up. Steve stared at him, and Jamie knew he wasn't going to agree to that./p  
p align="left""You're a kid," His other father, Bucky, told him. "Worry about being a kid. There will be plenty of challenges in life, trust me."/p  
p align="left""I'm fine," Jamie said, even though his right leg throbbed./p  
p align="left""No more stunt man action," Steve told him, rubbing his hair affectionately./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"The flight home seemed longer because he was tired and had school in the morning. In the jet, snug in the cushy seat with Stevie in the adjacent seat, Jamie dipped in and out of consciousness, comforted by the sounds of his fathers talking softly among one another./p  
p align="left""Director Fury..." he heard his father, Steve, say- lowering his voice in such a way that Jamie forced himself to be a bit more alert. "...a threat...he might need us again..."/p  
p align="left""The boys..." he heard his other father, Bucky, murmur just as quietly. "...keep them safe..."/p  
p align="left"Jamie lost his battle to stay awake and the next thing he knew, they were back in New York. Steve scooped up Jamie like he was still a little toddler and Jamie buried his face in his father's shoulder, loving how big and strong he was. Bucky took Stevie, who stirred angrily at being woke, and they were back in the car headed home./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"Jamie woke up the next morning feeling something was wrong. The sunlight streamed through his window. Usually when he got up for school, it was still dark outside. He sat up, his dirty blonde hair sticking out in every direction, and squinted at the light. He started to hop off the top bunk bed as he always did when Steve stood in his doorway and pointed at him./p  
p align="left""Don't you do it," he warned in an affectionate way./p  
p align="left"Jamie sheepishly remembered his wrapped leg. He climbed down carefully and scratched under his t-shirt he slept in with pajama pants and looked around, confused./p  
p align="left""I'm late for school," he croaked./p  
p align="left""You're playing hooky today," Steve told him. "We got home so late last night, you needed the rest."/p  
p align="left"Stevie snored blissfully on the bottom bunk, on his stomach, his butt in the air. He only slept in a t-shirt and a diaper. The shirt he was currently wearing was a Captain America shirt./p  
p align="left""I'm hungry," Jamie said, moving past Steve, who grabbed in a surprise bear hug and showered him with nips and kisses, making Jamie laugh. Jamie made his way into the kitchen and poured himself a bowl of Cheerios. He kept the box out because he could easily eat four bowls of cereal in one sitting. As he munched on his breakfast, and Steve moved around the kitchen doing dishes and putting dry dishes away from the washer, Jamie tried to piece together the conversation bits he'd heard on the flight home last night. Something about Director Fury and a threat./p  
p align="left""Why didn't you come to the park to get me yesterday?" He asked./p  
p align="left""I was at the SHIELD base," Steve replied automatically, taking one of Stevie's sippy cups from the fridge. He opened it and smelled it, and then poured it into the sink./p  
p align="left""Why?" Jamie asked./p  
p align="left""Director Fury needed something," his father said./p  
p align="left""What?" Jamie asked./p  
p align="left"Steve opened his mouth to say something, looking slightly annoyed at his son being so nosy, but Stevie's howl filled the room. The toddler came into the kitchen, dragging his raggedy old blanket behind him./p  
p align="left""Good morning, Buddy," Steve said, picking him up, kissing him. "How did you sleep?"/p  
p align="left"Stevie pointed at Jamie./p  
p align="left""See-wool," he said, meaning 'cereal'./p  
p align="left"Steve put him in the high chair and Jamie got up to fix his brother a bowl of cereal. He looked at his father, wondering if he was going to answer him. He did not. After the boys finished their breakfast and Jamie got dressed and got Stevie dressed they brushed their teeth, the rest of the day was sort of boring. Jamie couldn't run around and jump off things anymore, even if he wanted to, and TV didn't interest him much. Stevie was fun, but it turned out during the day, he didn't want much of Jamie's attention. Mostly he just liked to play with his toys or sit and read picture books. He wasn't like Jamie, who even as a baby, had been wired and hyper running all over the house./p  
p align="left"Jamie decided to busy himself with one of his model airplanes. He loved building model planes and had been doing it since he was very young. Often, Uncle Tony would rig them up to actually fly. Even as he concentrated on putting the tiny pieces together, seated at the long work bench in the basement, Jamie thought of his fathers and SHIELD. Was there really some kind of threat? And if there was, how could he find out about it? It took him nearly an hour of pondering, but he finally figured out how to find out. It would just have to happen after school let out./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left""Hello?" Zachary Stark asked, answering his own phone. It wasn't the dinky SHIELD phone with no apps. It was a cool phone, Jamie thought./p  
p align="left""Are you good at...emhacking/em into stuff?" Jamie asked, getting right to business./p  
p align="left""Um...I don't know," Zachary replied uneasily and Jamie heard him call to someone (most likely one of his parents), "It's Jamie!"/p  
p align="left""Listen, my parents were talking about SHIELD last night," Jamie told him. "A potential threat. It could be big. They're hiding something."/p  
p align="left"Zachary was silent for a moment and then asked, "What do you think it is?"/p  
p align="left""I don't know," Jamie said. "But if we can find a way to hack into SHIELD or something, maybe we can find out."/p  
p align="left""Why do you think I would know how to hack into something?" Zachary asked./p  
p align="left"Jamie rolled his eyes./p  
p align="left""Well, aren't you a genius or something?" He asked. As long as he could remember, Zachary had been incredibly smart, even when he was in diapers. That's why it had been so easy to be playmates./p  
p align="left""I don't really know how to 'hack'," Zachary admitted. "I figured out how to jam my hearing aids, but that's about it."/p  
p align="left"They were both silent for a moment and then Zachary said, "At the benefit on Saturday, my dad was talking to some SHIELD agents. It seemed pretty serious."/p  
p align="left""Try to figure out how to look into it," Jamie said. "I'll see what I can get on my end."/p  
p align="left""I'll try..." Zachary said hesitantly. "I have a lot of homework and it won't really be easy to try and hack into SHIELD without my dad knowing. And he probably won't be happy if I do."/p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"Jamie tried to ask his other father about SHIELD later, but Bucky just told him not to worry about things. Jamie wished grown ups wouldn't say things like that to kids. Did they honestly think all kids cared about was their allowance and video games and scraping their knees? Kids worried about important things too./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"It wasn't until late at night, after everyone had gone to bed, that Jamie heard lights turn on and his fathers move around outside of his closed bedroom door. He got out of bed, careful not to step on Stevie on the bottom bunk and awkwardly hobbled across the room to press his ear to the door./p  
p align="left""You watch the boys," he heard Bucky say. "I'll go talk to Fury."/p  
p align="left"Jamie tore the door open and hurriedly and clumsily walked of the room. Bucky was putting his coat on. Both of his fathers seemed surprised to see him awake./p  
p align="left""What are you doing up?" Steve asked. "It's almost two in the morning."/p  
p align="left""Where are you going, Dad?" Jamie asked Bucky, grabbing his hand, his real hand./p  
p align="left""I have to go talk to Director Fury," Bucky replied, kissing his head. "I'll see you tomorrow after school. Go back to bed, Kiddo."/p  
p align="left""What's going on?" Jamie asked, looking between them. "And don't say some grown up answer like 'don't worry about it'."/p  
p align="left"For some reason, this made his fathers smile a little. That annoyed Jamie./p  
p align="left""There's just been some disturbances, "Steve said. "Nothing to get worked up over."/p  
p align="left" /p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="center"To Be Continued.../p 


	4. Chapter 4

p align="center"Freya Foster: Galisteo, New Mexico/p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="left"Freya sat nervously among the other girls in the gymnasium awaiting cheerleader tryouts. Of course, only seventh and eighth graders could be cheerleaders, but sixth graders were allowed to try out for the squad and could start practicing over the summer. She loved sports of all kinds-softball, volleyball, basketball, tennis, swimming...and she was good at all of them. Cheerleading just seemed like the next step./p  
p align="left"When it was finally her turn, Freya showed off her amazing gymnastics skills-having been in gymnastics since she was little. One of the girls watching her on the sidelines, Amelia Thibedeaux, stuck out her foot and tripped her. Freya stumbled across the mat and into the the corner of the concrete bleachers. Two of the cheer coaches rushed to her aid./p  
p align="left""I'm fine," Freya said, her face heating up as she got to her feet. She glanced over to see Amelia trying to hide her grin./p  
p align="left""You need some ice," one of the cheer coaches said. "Go have a seat, Hon."/p  
p align="left""I'm really okay," Freya said. "Can I finish at least?"/p  
p align="left"The coach only tooted her whistle and pointed. Freya reluctantly moved to sit on the very bottom bleacher row. She'd never liked Amelia. Unfortunately, it had all started in kindergarten when Freya had tagged her a little too hard during a game of Duck-Duck Goose and pushed her into the mud. After that, in elementary school, Freya always did better in the fitness tests and could do chin ups and sit ups and shuttle runs better than any of the other children. Amelia told her for a while that she was a boy. That had burned Freya up, and even made her back off a little in the fitness department. During games of dodge ball, she threw more clumsily and took more hits. She pretended in the third grade that she didn't know how to climb a rope. She purposely lost the foot race at fifth grade play day./p  
p align="left"Freya wasn't built like a boy. In fact, she was a little on the slender side like her mother. Everyone told her how much she looked just like her mother, Dr. Jane Foster. Everywhere she went, she would get at least one 'You look just like your mom!'/p  
p align="left"It was nice, at least, because Freya thought her mother was pretty. Her father, a retired professor, was handsome too, she knew. He had been on some Dr. Hunks calendar or something, she'd heard from her aunt Darcy. He was weird, though, Freya thought from the bleachers. He had come from somewhere in Europe. Norway or Finland or Scotland or somewhere, but acted like he'd come straight out of the times of kings and queens and dragons. Freya loved her father dearly, but it always embarrassed her when she had friends over and she could hear her father in his booming voice call to her mother, "Dearest, how do I work this forsaken cable television again? I wish to watch my most treasured program"./p  
p align="left"Another student brought Freya a bag of ice and Freya placed it to the knot on her head, watching the other girls do cartwheels and backflips across the mat. Amelia and her gaggle were huddled together, whispering and giggling. Freya sighed through her nose. Amelia looked at her and grinned, turning back to her friends and they all started laughing again. Freya retrieved her phone and turned her camera front facing. The knot on her forehead was very visible, black and ugly. She turned her phone off, blinking back embarrassed and angry tears./p  
p align="left"When it was time for parents to pick up, Freya hoped that her mother would come. Her mother was normal. Of course, it had to be her father. He arrived in the gym, towering over the other adults, his broad shoulders almost coming out of his collar shirt. His short, neatly trimmed hair almost glowing under the awful gymnasium lights. His glasses showing off his incredibly blue eyes. He looked like Hercules trying to disguise himself as somebody's dad./p  
p align="left""Freya!" He boomed. "I have come to retrieve you and take you home!"/p  
p align="left"Amelia and her bunch cackled. Freya wanted to die. She walked over to her father and he immediately grew concerned, taking the bag of ice out of her hand, away from her forehead./p  
p align="left""What happened?" He asked./p  
p align="left""I slipped and fell," Freya muttered. "Let me go change, Dad."/p  
p align="left""Of course, Dearest." He kissed the bump. "I will be waiting here for you."/p  
p align="left"Freya slinked off to the locker rooms and pulled her shirt over her head to put her regular clothes back on. When she had pulled down her shirt, Amelia was standing in front of her./p  
p align="left""Too bad you missed try outs," she told her with mock pity./p  
p align="left""Shut up," Freya told her, pulling her jeans on./p  
p align="left""You can always try out for the football team," Amelia said sweetly. "I mean, did you see the crack you put in the bleachers?"/p  
p align="left"At that moment, the cheer coach came inside with the school nurse, pointing at Freya./p  
p align="left""What?" Freya ask, as the school nurse took hold of her./p  
p align="left""There's a big crack in the bleachers where you hit your head," The cheer coach said. "This is serious. You could be really injured."/p  
p align="left""No," Freya said, her face heating. "I'm fine."/p  
p align="left""I'm going to go let her father know," the cheer coach said. "She needs to go to the hospital."/p  
p align="left""No, I don't," Freya said, and all of the girls were looking at her. It was too much./p  
p align="left""You're such a freak," Amelia said softly. "You cracked cement."/p  
p align="left"Freya felt something snap inside of her and just as she shoved Amelia as hard as she could, the lights flickered. Amelia flew across the locker room, smashing into the opposite wall. Some of the girls screamed. Freya's eyes widened in horror. Amelia sat up and started to cry. At that moment, the cheer coach and the school nurse returned./p  
p align="left""What happened?" The nurse asked, moving to Amelia's side./p  
p align="left""She pushed her!" One of the girls said, pointing at Freya./p  
p align="left""I-I didn't push her that hard," Freya said, her own voice quivering./p  
p align="left""Can you stand?" The nurse asked Amelia, who nodded./p  
p align="left"The cheer coach looked at Freya, and even though she didn't say anything, Freya just knew. She knew that she was thinking what Amelia had said. What everyone thought./p  
p align="left"That she was a freak./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left""That is totally unfair!" Freya cried./p  
p align="left""You injured another girl," her mother said from her place at the kitchen table./p  
p align="left"Once Freya had got home, she had immediately been sat at the table for a "talking to". Her father seemed more sympathetic, reaching out to take her hand, but Freya jerked it away./p  
p align="left""She hurt me first!" Freya said, pointing to the bruise on her forehead. "She tripped me. And then she called me a freak! I didn't push her that hard!"/p  
p align="left"The truth was, she had pushed her that hard. She'd emfelt /emit. Freya slumped down in her chair and her parents gave each other long stares. Freya wondered if they were thinking she was a freak too./p  
p align="left""You're not doing cheerleading," her mother repeated simply. "That's final."/p  
p align="left""Mom!" Freya whined, tears in her eyes./p  
p align="left""Your grades are slipping anyway," her mother said, standing up to tend to dinner on the stove. "I viewed your report card online today."/p  
p align="left"Freya said nothing. Her grades weren't stellar lately, but not because she wasn't smart. She'd just had a lot of cheerleading on the brain...and other things. Things she couldn't really discuss with her parents. As of lately, Freya had become aware of her own strength. Absent-mindedly, while watching something on TV, she had been chewing on the corner of the remote control-not gnawing on it, just nibbling, the same she would do with a pencil, and the whole thing broke apart in her hand. She'd also squeezed a basketball between her hands so hard on the back patio that it popped. She'd also picked up the edge of her mother's car, just to test whether she really was developing some amazing super strength or it was her imagination. It terrified her./p  
p align="left""I'll get my grades up," Freya promised, wiping at her eyes. "I'll apologize to Amelia. Please let me do cheerleading, Mom."/p  
p align="left"She looked helplessly at her father, who looked like he wanted to say something, but his wife shot him a look./p  
p align="left""emThorbert/em," She said pointedly and he shut his mouth./p  
p align="left"Freya shook her head in disgust and got up from the table, slamming her chair against it and it slid the whole table sideways. Before her parents could even give her weird looks, she raced up the stairs taking two steps at a time and went to her room. She flung herself onto her bed and began to sob into her pillows. Everything was so messed up right now. What was happening to her?/p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"Just after her mother called her for dinner and she refused to come down, a knock sounded at Freya's door. Her father took a quick peek inside before opening it all the way. Freya sat up, wiping her eyes./p  
p align="left""Dear heart," he murmured, moving to sit beside her. "My...this bed is...soft."/p  
p align="left"Freya sniffled. Her father pulled her against his side and kissed her./p  
p align="left""Something's wrong with me, Daddy," Freya said, feeling safe when he held her like this./p  
p align="left""Nothing is wrong with you," he said softly. "You're perfect."/p  
p align="left""Did you feel like this when you came here?" She asked, raising her head./p  
p align="left"A brief panic flashed in his eyes and he asked, "What do you mean?"/p  
p align="left""When you came to the United States," Freya said. "From Norway or wherever."/p  
p align="left""Oh." He nodded. "Yes, it was all very strange. I felt out of place a great deal."/p  
p align="left""I really didn't mean to hurt Amelia," Freya said quietly./p  
p align="left"Her father nodded. "I know you didn't."/p  
p align="left"Freya wanted to tell him about the remote control and the basketball and the car, but what if he didn't even believe her? What if she showed him and he thought she really was a freak? What if he called somebody to haul her away or alerted the press and then she showed up on a viral video picking up cars? No sixth grade girl wanted that!/p  
p align="left""I just feel so lost right now," she said finally./p  
p align="left""There is so much I wish to tell you," her father relied, stroking her hair. "When you're older, I will, but your mother and I made a promise to keep you happy and safe and while you're young, you will not understand such things."/p  
p align="left"Freya wondered if this was just his weird European way of the classic, 'you'll understand when you're older'. The same BS adults always tried to pull on kids. Like how they said growing up was fast. Freya thought growing up was the slowest thing in the world. It had taken her forever just to get to middle school . Her mother said she would understand things like why she wasn't allowed to wear makeup or stay up past eleven-thirty when she was 'older'. Her aunt Darcy said she would explain dirty jokes in movies to her when she was 'older'./p  
p align="left""Come and eat," he said, standing up, pulling her with him. "Your mother has cooked a beautiful roasted chicken with golden potatoes and brusseled sprouts."/p  
p align="left"Freya grinned and so did her father./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left""Hey, Caveman!" A girl called to Freya before school the next morning while the sixth graders all waited in the girls' gym together before class. She pointed to the crack in the bleachers./p  
p align="left"Freya self consciously touched the bandage on her forehead and looked away. Amelia shot her a death glare when she saw her in first period and in third period she told her, "I went to the hospital last night. Luckily nothing was broken. Stay away from me, Foster."/p  
p align="left"In gym period, the coach called Freya aside during volleyball and told her to 'take it easy', warily eyeing the other girls. This made the other girls giggle and Freya went and sat on the bleachers, her eyes filled with tears that she refused to let fall. Every time a ball rolled her way and one of the girls came to get it, they would look at her a grin in a mean, knowing way. Freya was embarrassed and ashamed and practically put on display for the other girls to make fun of her./p  
p align="left"After school, she purposely didn't get on the school bus. She couldn't. Knowing that Amelia and her crew rode the same bus, it would be too much. She decided to walk. As she did, she let herself start to cry. She was not going to be a cheerleader. She was not going to ever be normal. She would just get stronger and weirder and eventually get kicked out of school or something./p  
p align="left"Freya moved to the front of a business with steps and sat down on the steps, crying into her hands. Angrily, she punched the step beneath her and it cracked. Freya wailed in a high pitched way and cried more, burying her face into her thighs. She felt a strange presence and raised her head to see some shoes. The shoes became legs, a torso, a face. A kind looking face. A sympathetic face. A man with black hair tucked behind his ears looked at her, concerned./p  
p align="left""Are you alright?" He asked. Like her father, he had an accent./p  
p align="left"Freya nodded, wiping her eyes. Had he seen her punch the step? He looked beside her and she knew he had./p  
p align="left""And your hand?" He asked. "Let me see."/p  
p align="left"He sat down beside her and took her hand. Freya didn't know how to explain that she was fine so she didn't. The man examined her hand in a gentle way and said, "You have very delicate bone structure, like your grandmother."/p  
p align="left"Freya frowned slightly. The man smiled at her, a kind smile, not the sneering kind she'd been given all day./p  
p align="left""Bone structure like that of a princess," he said./p  
p align="left"Freya slowly took her hand back./p  
p align="left""Do I know you?" She asked warily./p  
p align="left""Asgard," he said simply./p  
p align="left""What?"/p  
p align="left""Surely he's told you of your heritage," the man said./p  
p align="left"Freya stood up, picking up her backpack. She felt at eleven years old, she was too old to pull the whole 'I don't talk to strangers' routine so she decided she would just walk away./p  
p align="left""You're not a freak, Freya," he called after her, and she stopped. "You're just a flower in a patch of dirt. They are beneath you, all of them."/p  
p align="left"Freya turned around./p  
p align="left""Leave me alone," she said, starting to feel unsafe./p  
p align="left"The man suddenly appeared in front of her and she walked emthrough /emhim. Freya lost her footing and screamed. He caught her, helping her to stand upright./p  
p align="left""How did you do that?" She gasped out./p  
p align="left"The man, who was very tall like her father, knelt down so that he was eye level with her. He brushed some of her hair back from her face and said, "Because, my dear, I am like you."/p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left"Freya sat in the small cafe with the man who had introduced himself as Loki. He sipped at some tea and she drank some of her smoothie. He was dressed normally, like everyone else, but he told her that he was not like everyone else./p  
p align="left""You know my parents?" She asked./p  
p align="left"Loki smiled at her, nodding./p  
p align="left""You're old friends or something?" She asked./p  
p align="left"Occasionally, over the years, Freya had met some of her parents' friends, but never Loki. Was he a family friend from Europe maybe?/p  
p align="left""Freya," he said carefully, leaning forward and folding his hands. "What if I told you that your mother and father have not been truthful to you? That your strength, your power is only unusual here because you do not belong here?"/p  
p align="left"Freya toyed with her straw nervously./p  
p align="left"-/p  
p align="left""Where could she be?" Jane asked, staring at her phone. "She's not answering my calls, my texts. She didn't get off of the school bus..."/p  
p align="left"Thor sighed, shrugging his coat on. "I am going to look for her."/p  
p align="left"Jane held up her hand to stop him, sinking down onto the sofa. Thor looked at her questioningly./p  
p align="left""You know, I always knew this was a bad idea," she said. "I don't know why I let you talk me into this."/p  
p align="left""What are you talking about?" Thor asked./p  
p align="left""Not telling Jane about...emeverything/em!" Jane said. "Agreeing to keep Asgard and you and everything a secret from her."/p  
p align="left""It was to keep her safe," Thor said sternly. "You know any threat that comes in my path, they will immediately seek out Freya."/p  
p align="left""She knows now," Jane said, standing back up. "I feel it. I know that she's becoming aware of her Asgardian side and did you see what she did to the remote control? Thor, she is going to figure this out."/p  
p align="left"Her cell phone suddenly rang and she answered on the first ring seeing her daughter's picture on the screen./p  
p align="left""Freya?" She asked. "Honey, where are you?"/p  
p align="left""Mom," Freya said. "Why did you never tell me about Asgard?"/p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="center" /p  
p align="center"To Be Continued.../p 


End file.
